


Rooftops

by CharWright5



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble, First Kisses, First Love, M/M, Making Out, References to Underage Drinking, SO, Summer, but there's only slight references to the possibility of things happening, tagged as underage because they're 17 and in some places that's underage, teenage boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharWright5/pseuds/CharWright5
Summary: Kissing Ash was another revelation in a summer full of them, a confirmation of what Linc had always felt had been true about himself. It was driving the nail home inside his mind and while it had affirmed his sexuality, it had also left him wondering if it would always be this maddening, this much of a bloodrush with anyone else...





	Rooftops

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you listen to The Pillows' _white summer and green bicycle, red hair with black guitar_ on repeat and procrastinate what you're actually supposed to be working on. Also lol at me writing about summer when there's literally fourteen inches of snow outside right now >w<
> 
> Part of a larger work/ story that's in my head but since I don't know if I'll actually be able to ever work on it, I just wanted to get this scene done since it's been in my head for...weeks pretty much.

Summers in the south were not for the faint of heart and Linc Reynolds was too much of a northerner to handle it. Seemed like the only time it was bearable to be outside was at night, when the sun was done pressing down on everyone and the humidity lessened just enough to where you no longer felt like you were drowning just by standing on the front porch.

Laying on the slanted guest house roof, feet planted to prevent him from sliding off—at least that's what his paranoia told him—he pressed at the scrawny twig he called an upper arm, imagining that he could see the white skin fade to the tan he'd miraculously managed to get. Another result of spending the summer in North Carolina, he knew, considering how the previous seventeen years of his life had seen him be nothing but pale and almost ghostly.

But summers back home in the city were spent indoors with video games and AC and movie marathons, not like down here. No, down here the heat was so oppressive, it overpowered any AC systems or window units or fans. Down here there was nothing to do except loiter and be bored together, biking or skateboarding where they weren't supposed to, drinking on whoever's farm they'd snuck onto, bonfires and house parties and band practices he sat in as he tagged along with his new friends.

The fact that Linc had yet to be sunburned seemed hard to believe in all honesty. Guess there was something to be said for slathering himself before he left the house and reapplying throughout the day, no matter how much shit he got for it.

Tucking his hands behind his head, he stared up at the sky above him, at stars he was actually able to see. Down here in this rural small town, there was no light pollution, nothing stopping the tiny gaseous balls from glowing and being seen the way they were meant to be seen. The heat was something he still wasn't used to, but this... this was something he was gonna miss when his time spent in North Carolina was up and heheaded back north, back to his mom and his regular life.

There was a lot he was gonna miss actually.

Ribbons of smoke drifted into his line of sight and his next inhale brought the acrid scent of nicotine into his lungs, making his nose crinkle in disgust. Green eyes following the dancing stream, back to the glowing embers that flared as the other occupant of this roof, the one whose roof it actually was, inhaled deeply.

Ash van Wagner was an ethereal being who really shouldn't ever be described as such. And yet...yet when Linc looked at him, that's all he could think, that he was beautiful and angelic and otherworldy. Sure, he wasn't what one would typically picture when they thought of those words. The sides of his head were shaved to a buzzcut, blond hair on top and at the back spiked in every direction, styled by his pillow and his hands roughing through it during the day. A spike ran through his left eyebrow, hoop in his right nostril, ball in the middle of his lip that he had a habit of sucking into his mouth. More metal pierced his ears and his arms featured illegal tattoos done by friends he partied with, drank with, played with. The sleeves of his tee were cut off, the band logo on the front long since faded, and the hems of his cargo shorts were frayed almost to the point of looking like fringe.

Yet with the full moon shining down, painting sharp cheekbones and a square jaw and a blade nose in silver highlights, throwing glittering strands into messed up hair, his chocolate eyes practically black... to Linc, he was beautiful.

Linc sat up, mimicking his new friend's pose of drawn up knees and dangling arms, roughing a hand through his own short black hair. The smoke was stronger up here and he coughed at it, drawing Ash's attention, pierced eyebrow raised.

“You really hate this shit, huh?” Ash drawled in a way that would be charming on anyone else. But Linc had been around the guy enough to know that his charm came at a price to anyone whom he didn't like, like a beautiful flower with deadly spikes ready to harm or kill those who came too close. He kept everyone at arm's length, save for the few members of his band, but even then, they only got to see the surface.

Linc wondered why it was that he was allowed to see past the armor of tattoos and piercings and ripped clothing, only to figure it out soon after. He was safe because he was leaving, not permanent, an ephemeral presence in Ash's life, like the smoke he blew out into the night sky above them. He wouldn't be around long enough to hold anything against him, to use anything he learned, to cause any real long-lasting damage. And when he left, he'd be taking those secrets with him, useless knowledge piled on top of all the other useless random shit he'd taught himself over the years.

He turned his attention to the cigarette still dangling between Ash's fingers, long slender digits that wrapped around drumsticks and steering wheels, that passed out beer bottles and cigarettes, that tangled in Linc's hair and his clothing. “Yeah,” he croaked out, clearing his throat then lifting his eyes to the narrowed dark ones already staring him down, analyzing as always, like Ash wasn't entirely sure what to make of him. “That shit's disgusting.”

Ash kept up the eye contact and Linc bit back any remarks over lung cancer or emphysema or heart disease, any of the countless other health issues that came from those little sticks of tobacco. There was no point. The first time Ash had lit up in front of him and Linc had commented that they'd kill him, the blond had smirked in that dangerous manner of his and said “ _yeah. Fuckin' great, ain't they?_ ” He still wasn't entirely sure what exactly what was going on in the other boy's life, but it was enough to where he didn't really care what happened to himself. It wasn't really a death wish, so much as just... not caring either way.

If it killed him, fine. If it didn't, fine. Ash van Wagner couldn't and didn't give a fuck either way.

The moment broke, Ash nodding slowly, before flicking away the half-smoked cig. Linc followed it with his eyes as best he could, watching as the light from inside the pool below gave just enough illumination to show the ripple in the water as the cancer stick landed on it and sank. He got the feeling it wasn't the first time Ash had pulled such a stunt, almost like he was daring his parents to find out, to call him out on it, to act as though he existed even if it was to just yell about trash in the pool.

Linc felt that tight clench in his chest he always got when he thought about the few things he actually knew about Ash, about his parents ignoring him in favor of their own lives and careers, their only child nothing more than another accessory in their ostentatious house. Linc had thought he'd known what that was like, to be unwanted as a child, his dad gone and reduced to nothing more than a sperm donor and a man who sent cards with money on the appropriate occasion.

But then he'd gotten the email about his father's upcoming wedding and the invite to spend the summer with him, his soon-to-be step-mom and step-sister, and he realized that things were always more complicated than they initially seem.

If nothing else, spending the summer in the south was educating, eye-opening, illuminating in so many ways, in so many aspects of his life.

Ash pulled a pack of mints out his pocket and popped one in his mouth, Linc's heart now lurching for an entirely different reason. Because the blond had made it clear through actions more than words that Linc was something special, something precious, something to be treated with care and respect in regards to. It was why he'd thrown away the cigarette rather than purposefully blowing smoke in his face, why he was getting rid of nicotine breath, why Linc was even allowed on the rooftop in the first place. This was Ash's special oasis, the place he went to when he wanted to clear his head and escape other bullshit in his life. This was a place for Ash only, an invisible _NO OTHER HUMANS ALLOWED_ sign hung on an invisible forcefield around it. When Linc had casually mentioned coming up here to his bandmates, they all looked at him like he'd announced he was secretly some celebrity's kid or owned Disney or was friends with every head of every record label in New York and was therefore able to get them a deal of some form. It was something akin to awe and shock and confusion and a little jealousy.

He tried telling himself that it was like everything else, that it was because he was temporary and safe, but then Ash leaned his head on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around his lower back, long fingers tickling at his bare hip under his tee, and Linc knew it was a lie to think it was something as shallow as that.

He heard the crunch of the mint in Ash's mouth, impatiently chewing, and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. His skin buzzed pleasantly under the dried layer of sweat covering it, anticipation heating his cheeks more than the lingering mugginess hanging in the air. And when Ash finally lifted his head, Linc turned to face him, to meet him halfway, their lips coming together in a way that felt inevitable and scripted and needed all the same.

Ash kissed the same way he lived the rest of his life: with passion and fervor, holding nothing back as he went after what he wanted. He crowded into Linc's space, hand on the back of his head, fingers sifting through short black locks damp with sweat. His tongue demanded entrance rather than asked and Linc gave it to him freely, lips parting with a gasp as contact was made, as a shiver raced up his spine. Ash plundered and took, coaxing whines and moans from the more slender boy, sounds that floated up above and were lost to the stars, sounds that were matched by guttural moans and harsh huffs as the blond tried in vain to get closer still.

Linc's hands gripped onto Ash's tee for dear life, as though he'd dissipate into the sky like the smoke from his cigarettes, as though the dizzy feeling in his head was its own brand of fizzy lifting drink that would cause him to float away. He hauled the other boy in closer, felt flat pecs and rounded shoulders, Ash all hard lines and immovable objects, like his body was chiseled to match his personality or vice versa.

Kissing Ash was another revelation in a summer full of them, a confirmation of what Linc had always felt had been true about himself. It was driving the nail home inside his mind and while it had affirmed his sexuality, it had also left him wondering if it would always be this maddening, this much of a bloodrush with anyone else. Was it because these were his first real kisses, his first make-out sessions? Was it because of the heat of the summer amplifying the heat of everything else? Was it the fervor of youth and the fact that life had yet to taint him as much as the adults around him had been scarred and ruined? Was it Ash himself and the fact that this was something only he was capable of pulling out of Linc, whether because of skill or because he was meant to?

It didn't matter really, not when it wouldn't last, not when it had a time limit on everything. Then again, that very time limit probably added another layer of desperation and need and heat to it all, the knowledge that soon it would be over and they needed to take all they could get while they could still get it.

Not that that mattered either. As it was, his head was buzzing, swimming, dancing, his blood coursing through his body like fire and sparking every nerve ending possible. He felt his shorts grow tighter as he hardened and pulsed, felt his back arch and body undulate, felt himself give in as Ash pushed him down, moved on top of him. One hand braced the blond as the other reached down and pressed hard against Linc's aching cock, pulling a rough groan from somewhere in his chest. He wanted this, had from the moment Ash had first kissed him outside some party he'd just played at, with his breath tasting of stale beer and cigarettes, and he'd known when those kisses had become a regular thing that there was no way he was ending his summer the same way he'd begun it: virginal and inexperienced and still on the questioning side of things.

Yet when those long fingers began working the button of his shorts, Linc pulled them away, Ash raising his head to stare down at him questioningly, eyebrows pulled and the moonlight sparkling off the spike piercing one of them.

“Not on the roof,” he explained, out of breath, out of his mind, needy and desirous and scared all at once.

Because being with Ash felt like standing on the back of a pick-up as it rushed down the highway at seventy miles per hour and like jumping off the roof into the pool below and dancing too close to the edge of the lookout ridge after drinking the night away. It was the adrenaline and the danger and the rush of all of it that made it hard to think straight, hard to figure out why things were wrong or a bad idea.

Not that he thought Ash himself was a bad idea. Just...fooling around on top of a slanted roof.

“Can we continue this inside?” he pleaded, raising his head enough for his lips to be a whisper against Ash's, to tease in much the same way Ash did him, and the shudder he earned in response meant he'd been successful.

Ash kissed him hard, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving him gasping, struggling, writhing and desperate for more. Theblond pulled away and it was only through his own ragged breathing, his own harsh pants, that Linc knew he wasn't the only one affected by this moment.

Until Ash rose to his feet and Linc was able to get a good look at the bulge in his cargo shorts that most definitely hadn't been there when they'd first climbed up.

Taking the hand he was offered, Linc was hauled up onto his feet and he carefully stepped to the edge with his fingers clutching onto longer ones. Because for all the danger and risk Ash van Wagner was, Linc knew the boy was also his safety and security, that nothing would ever happen to him and if it did, Ash would fix it, make it better. Which was why it was so easy for him to hang off the edge and slip back into the window that led to Ash's bedroom in the guest house of his parent's property, knowing full well that he wasn't gonna fall onto the ground below, that when he entered, he wasn't coming out the same.

Yeah, his summer was shaping up to be illuminating and educating and memorable, and Ash van Wagner was a big part of the reason why.


End file.
